Private Lessons
by Amanda Kitswell
Summary: Anders meets Sunniva in her quarters for some private lessons. Rated M for a reason.


Her feet drifted soundlessly across the floor as she paced, a soft breeze caressing the bare skin of her thighs. Her stomach was churning as it knotted and unknotted in a nauseating rhythm. Just the thought of what had occurred sent a blush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that this was what she wanted—what _they_ wanted. But reminders of their respective pasts made her question if they should.

She fiddled with the hem of the long tunic that was all she wore save for the panties she had hastily thrown on, and in a moment she was kneeling before a chest, the carpet covering the stone floor soft against her skin. The chest held all that remained of her belongings from Highever Castle. So much had been destroyed, but not only had she kept the family sword throughout the Blight, she had returned to her former home and found so much more.

The most important of all her discoveries was a music player her father had brought home from Rivain. The cylinders she had played incessantly for months were stored in a box that was magically infused with cooling magic to prevent warping. It really was a miracle they had survived over a year in a castle that had been gutted and nearly turned inside out, and she cherished them as one of the few reminders of her life before joining the Wardens.

Moving the player from the chest to her desk carefully, she returned to the box that accompanied it. She released the latch and lifted the lid, carefully sifting through the half dozen cylinders that rested inside. Cold air whispered along her heated cheeks and across her neck, causing her to shiver as gooseflesh dappled the skin of her arms. She removed the one she wanted, closing the box before crossing back to the player.

Sunniva wound the crank and released, relishing in the music that streamed from the diaphragm. Slowly the tension unraveled as she moved with the sensual rhythm, her hips swaying side to side as she ran her hands up and above her head. Her eyes closed as she turned, letting the music take control.

Familiar hands rested on her hips, and she felt warm breath on her ear as Anders whispered, "Where did you learn to dance like this?"

"I didn't learn it," she breathed. Her muscles coiled with the tension that had so recently left her, and yet she found herself leaning back, his hands moving to cover her stomach as hers reached back to tangle in his hair, still loose from its tie. "I just let the music move me."

"Well, then." He kissed her neck, his lips lingering on the delicate skin there. "I like what the music does to you."

She turned in his arms, meeting his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm—Ah, not what you meant. Not used to being the one _asked_ that question." His lips covered hers, hands gently rubbing her back. "Yes, Sunniva, I'm sure."

"In that case…" she trailed off, stepping out of his arms to reset the needle, winding the crank again to start the song anew. She sauntered slowly back over to him, greeting his bewildered gaze with a sly grin. "I believe I promised you private lessons, correct?" He nodded, lifting an eyebrow as Sunniva moved into his arms, turning so her back was to him. "Follow where the music takes you."

Her hands were on his neck again when they began to move, his hips matching hers sway for sway in a teasingly erotic rhythm that stole her breath. He settled his hands on her waist and gently pulled her against him further.

A haze settled over them as his fingers teased the small expanse of pale skin that was exposed beneath the hem of her tunic. Slowly he pushed the fabric up enough to rest his hands on her bare flesh, roaming upward toward the underside of her breasts. She turned her head to look back at him, only to have her lips captured in a soft yet urgent kiss. His tongue traced her bottom lip delicately, and she opened her mouth to him.

Her body turned of its own volition, and she bit back a moan when his hands slid down and over her backside, squeezing lightly. One went further, lifting her leg by the thigh and holding it against his hip. She leaned backward, Anders' hand on the bare skin of her lower back as she lifted her shirt over her head. He swept her from one side to the other before pulling her back up.

She wasn't sure if it was the music continuing to guide them, or simply them, lost in the eroticism of the moment. Her hands explored the muscles at his back as his tunic was cast aside, fingernails scratching lightly and causing him to shiver. When her fingers slipped beneath the hem of his breeches and brushed the skin there, his grip on her thigh tightened, and this time she couldn't help the moan that slipped past her lips. He pulled her against him, and she could feel his length pressing into her stomach as he kissed her.

The tender meeting of their lips grew steadily more fervent as she deliberately rubbed against him. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and she let out a gasp when his hand moved from her thigh to tease her over the thin fabric that remained. It was his turn to moan as he found her more than ready for him, a single finger pushing the flimsy material aside and slipping inside her.

She cried out softly, resting her forehead against his chest as her arms went around his neck. Her arms tightened around him as he teased her, breathing shallow and rapid as another finger joined the first. Nails dug into flesh when she neared a crescendo, lifting her head to capture his mouth, stifling her cries as the tension snapped.

He withdrew his fingers, and she whimpered softly, lamenting the loss. His hands found her hips, toying with the little bit of fabric there as he pushed her backward toward the bed. She played with the rough hair that hung about his shoulders in the haze of her orgasm, stopping only when her calves hit the soft cotton of her bedcover. It was surprising how patient he was being, but, as he laid her down on the bed—his hand supporting her lower back—she couldn't have cared less.

Her head lolled to the side when she felt calloused fingertips graze her hips, traveling the length of her legs and taking her panties with them. Disappearing for but a moment before they returned, his hands slowly brushed their way back upward until they gently pushed her thighs apart. When she could bring herself to look, she found him kneeling, naked, before her. She couldn't help the way her eyes raked over him, taking in the slight flare of his hip, or just how toned his legs _really_ were. They were things she had certainly seen before, but never appreciated in such alluring proximity.

With a gesture of her finger, he leant down until she found herself lost in another ardent, breathtaking kiss. One of his hands began to caress her side, steadily moving lower. Soon he had gripped her thigh, hiking it up to rest against his hip as he had what seemed like ages ago. This time she could feel him brush against the very center of her, and her stomach clenched. She bucked her hips involuntarily, eliciting a moan from them both.

Her hand went to his hair, lacing her fingers between rough, wheat-colored locks. Her other hand grazed his side as it traveled to his other hip, and in seconds she had flipped them so she was on top. She met his gaze with humor before reaching between them, his eyes rolling back as she stroked him almost teasingly slow. Her patience was nearly at an end, and she could see his was as well when he opened his eyes to stare at her desperately.

She positioned herself, crying out when he thrust into her unexpectedly. Her hands rested on his chest, nails biting into his flesh as her hips rocked back and forth. The pace was furious, relentless, and she almost couldn't contain the screams that threatened to escape her with every perfect motion that he made. She threw her head back when one of his hands closed on her breast, kneading as his thumb brushed over her nipple.

Her hand—still tangled in his hair—pulled him up to her, their lips meeting as they adjusted. She found herself closer to a new, steeper precipice, and she allowed herself to approach it as his lips left hers to travel down her neck and over her collarbone. His hand moved between them, and when his finger brushed where she was most sensitive, electricity bolted through her and sent her hurtling over the edge.

She cried out with every pulse that rocked her to her very core, hardly noticing when Anders rolled her onto her back. His pace became slow and deliberate, drawing out her orgasm until she could barely breathe. Never truly coming down from her second high, she began to approach a third. Her nails found purchase wherever they could, unable to form a coherent thought in the haze that clouded her mind as his thrusts came quicker and deeper. Tension coiled mercilessly in her lower belly, and it was a wonder that she didn't snap in half. Her toes curled and her hands tangled in his hair as she tried and failed not to scream, knowing his name was mixed into the cries that his mouth captured but didn't truly quiet.

His movements became erratic, and she knew he only needed a little push to bring him to the same high that he had brought her to multiple times. She matched every thrust until she felt his muscles tense, breathing, "Sunni," against her lips in a low moan that scalded her to the soul. Instinct told her that wouldn't be the last time she heard the nickname, nor would it be the last time she felt so complete.

As he rolled off of her, he pulled her against him, burying his face in her hair. Suddenly all was silent, and Sunniva briefly pondered just how long ago the music had stopped, and how much of their encounter had been heard. Despite all her wonderings, she couldn't be bothered to feel any embarrassment or shame. All she cared to feel was Anders' presence and how wholly it encompassed her: his hands stroking her back softly, or his warm breath weaving through her hair.

Her eyelids were too heavy to open, and she found herself slipping into a deep, restful sleep that she had long been deprived of in the Wardens. As the man that held her began to breathe evenly and deeply, she truly believed this would be a night devoid of nightmares, and full of promises of what the future might bring.

* * *

><p><strong>I know I usually put a quote at the beginning but I can't think of a single one that Anders or any other character says that's appropriate for this situation. If you can think of one, let me know!<strong>


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